


My Wrong Turn At Albuquerque

by Anilkex



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Schmoop, Sick Dean Winchester, Sick Sam Winchester, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:50:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anilkex/pseuds/Anilkex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Interesting LJ prompt requested Jess, Sam, and Dean hunting together, when one of the boys gets sick.   Told in Jess' POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Wrong Turn At Albuquerque

**Author's Note:**

> Bugs Bunny fans should get the title reference.
> 
> The original prompt is at the end of the story. I do think that the prompter was looking for a threesome, but I wasn't comfortable with that. I don't see Sam sharing Jess with his brother. (I don't mean that I'm not comfortable with three-ways.) (Take that however you want.)
> 
> I have often wondered whether the three of them hunting together would make a good 'verse. Leave a comment if it's something you're interested in. I'm curious.

**_Six Months Ago…_ **

I watched Sam flop carelessly onto our bed, and settle against his pillow. His eyes were closed and a small smile played about his lips.

I told myself he’s thinking of me, wondering where I am, wanting me to join him in bed.

He doesn’t realize that if he just opens his eyes, he’ll see me.

I’m right here.

On the ceiling.

Watching.

Bleeding.

Dying.

Part of me _wants_ Sam to open his eyes. 

To get out.

_To run._

The other part _never_ wants Sam to open his eyes, to never know that monsters are real, to _never_ understand that the life we wanted can never be.

But he _does._

And the look on his face, when his eyes met mine, will burn with me forever.

**xxxxx**

**_Today…_ **

“Jess - get your ass in gear! How long can it _possibly_ take to brush your hair?”

I tossed the last of my clothes in my bag and _slowly_ walked out the door, blowing Dean a kiss as I passed him in the doorway.

“You can’t rush _this_ ,” I teased, smiling wider as Sam chuckled from the front seat of the Impala.

Dean rolled his eyes and slammed the door to our latest motel room. “Of course not. How silly of me. C’mon, I’m starving.”

I sauntered past Sam, watching _him_ watch _me_ , before opening the rear door and climbing inside. He turned in his seat, eyes full of amusement.

“You look great,” he said, smiling.

I flippantly tossed my hair over my shoulder and leaned back, grinning. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Dean settled behind the wheel, tossing a withering look over his shoulder at me. “Now that we’re _all ready_ , we can grab breakfast before hitting the road.”

I winked at him, and I saw the ghost of a smile hit his lips before he turned and started the engine. I knew he was teasing. Every once in a while, though, I like to double check and make sure. 

The Impala rumbled to life, and we were on our way towards a diner. I studied Dean as he drove, fingers tapping against the steering wheel to Pick-A-Seventies-Band. He seemed okay, so even though his banter was a little clipped and his voice a tad raspy, I was sure he wasn’t really mad.

Well...pretty sure.

I glanced out the window at the weather front lazily rolling across the sky. I made a note to check the weather once we settled at the diner. The last thing I wanted was to drive through a major storm.

We pulled into the parking lot and filed out of the Impala. Even Dean seemed less than thrilled about eating in another one of these places. 

We got a booth and ordered our food. Sam snagged a newspaper on the way in, and I pulled out the section with the weather report.

“Where are we headed, again?” I asked, taking a sip of coffee and scanning the color coded map.

Dean took a swallow of orange juice before answering. “Middle of Ohio. That’s where the coordinates point.”

I felt Sam shift in the booth, his leg bouncing in time to the twitching muscles in his cheek. I gently placed my hand on his knee to steady him. His eyes flickered towards me before returning to the paper.

Sam’s agitation over his father’s cryptic messaging was getting harder to mask. 

Dean’s agitation with _Sam’s_ agitation over his father’s cryptic messaging was getting harder to mask. I squeezed his knee, and without looking up, Sam covered my hand in his, squeezing back.

“Well...looks like rain, some more rain, and if we’re lucky, a thunderstorm.”

Dean grunted and cleared his throat. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

I refolded the paper, then jumped as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I looked at the caller ID - my parents.

_Aw, shit_.

I shook my phone at them with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my folks...I should get this...I guess…”

Sam took a deep breath and nodded slowly, giving my hand one last squeeze before letting me out of the booth. 

Dean raised his eyebrows, giving me a look of sympathy. “Tell them hi…”

Rolling my eyes, I nodded and stepped outside. I leaned against the Impala and answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Jess, sweetheart? It’s Mom.”

I sighed. Of course it is. “Hi Mom, how’s it going?”

I felt her prickle at the question, but vowed not to let it upset me this time. “ _I’m_ fine. I’m calling to see how _you’re_ doing.”

I rolled my head back and watched the clouds. “Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Everyone’s fine...Dean says hello.”

I heard the huff on the other end, and grit my teeth. So much for my vow.

“Jessica...where are you guys?”

_Another greasy diner in another small town hunting another monster while we search for Sam’s dad in an attempt to find the demon who killed their mom and tried to kill me._

I swallowed. “Indiana. We’re heading towards Ohio in a bit. That’s where the next consulting job is.” I decided to head her off at the pass. “I’m in the middle of another online class, and should be able to finish in a couple weeks.”

She sighed “Jess…”

I guess that didn’t head her off. “Mom - don’t start. Please. I’m happy. Sam and I are happy. We’re fine, and that’s that.”

“I know, Jess, and I understand, believe me, I do...” 

_No, you don’t_. 

“Your father and I understand that the accident and the fire shook you both up...” 

_No, you don’t. And it wasn’t an accident._

“But...we’re worried about you. About you both. You’ve been traveling all over the place since you got out of the hospital. You haven’t even come home. We...appreciate...Sam’s brother taking you both in and letting you work with him...but… _Jess_ …he’s not...I mean, he doesn’t know how to - ”

_Okay, we’re done_. “Thanks for the check-in, mom. I’ll tell Sam and Dean you say hi. I’ll call soon.” 

I hung up.

And turned off the ringer.

I can tolerate the blind concern she has for me and Sam. I get that. She loves Sam like a son. But when she starts to insinuate that Dean isn’t capable of taking care of us...that’s where my patience ends. 

What she doesn’t understand, is that if it weren’t for Dean, Sam wouldn’t have pulled me off that ceiling. If it weren’t for Dean, we wouldn’t have made it to the hospital in time. If it weren’t for Dean, I’d be a mess.

_Because if it weren’t for Dean, I wouldn’t have Sam. And he wouldn’t have me._

I pocketed my phone and just sat for a minute, rubbing my temples and wondering how long I could dodge them. Forever, potentially. While that felt really wrong on some level, it was an incredible relief on another. _Sometimes_ , maybe the easy road _is_ the better road.

I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Looking up, I found a worried Sam standing next to me. I never even heard him approach. Some hunter-in-training _I_ am. 

“Hey...food’s ready. You okay?” He knew how these calls went. 

I nodded, leaning against him. “Yup.”

“Hung up on them, huh?”

I bumped his chest with my forehead. “Yup.”

Sam laughed and kissed the top of my head. “I love you.”

“You’d better,” I mumbled against his shirt. I let him pull me off the car and back inside.

As we approached the table, I noticed Dean swipe at his nose and furtively shove something in his pocket, before attacking his breakfast with gusto. I gave him a questioning look, which he returned with complete innocence. 

_Oooo-kay, then_. I sat down and started to eat.

It took only a couple minutes for Sam to ask, “So...what’s in the middle of Ohio?”

Dean wiped his mouth and picked up his juice. “I did a little research last night. Looks like it may be a spirit. Local legend, too.”

Sam peered at Dean through his bangs. “Wait - you did research last night? After we got home? How late were you up?”

Dean squirmed in his seat a little, and shrugged. He took a long drink then refocused on his plate. “I was restless. Figured I’d get us a head start.”

Sam shook his head. “Dean...man...you can’t keep doing that.”

Dean rolled his eyes and shoved a fork full of pancakes in his mouth. “It’s fine, Sammy.”

And that was the end of that conversation.

But I knew there was more. I knew exactly why Dean was awake until God-knows-when, and the realization made my appetite drain away.

It was _my_ fault. 

I vaguely remember having nightmares last night. They’ve gotten much better, but occasionally...yeah. Sometimes they get the best of me when I’m unconscious. Sam’s been running himself ragged, too, so when he does fall asleep, he’s out like a brick. I’m thinking it has something to do with Dean’s presence, because he never slept that hard at Stanford.

So thankfully, I don’t usually wake _him_ when I find myself gasping and frantic at Insane-O’Clock in the morning. But, I usually wake someone _else_.

More than once, Dean’s sat with me until I fall back asleep, assuring me that I’m… _we’re_...safe, and that he’s watching over us. And I know...that if he does that for me when Sam’s passed out, he does it for Sam when I’m passed out. 

When that man rests is beyond me.

So, like I said...when my mom starts in on Dean not knowing how to take care of us, the phone calls end.

Like magic, Dean senses my thoughts, because I received a swift kick under the table. Frowning, I raised my eyes as I reached down to rub my shin. Making sure Sam wasn’t watching, Dean pointed at me with his fork, then pointed at my food. He shook his head, wordlessly telling me not to worry, that it wasn’t a big deal.

Sighing, I rolled my eyes, and ate my breakfast.

**xxxxx**

By the time we pulled into Ohio, the clouds opened and a steady stream of rain covered the entire town. Probably the entire state.

It didn’t take long to get here, so it was still early enough for some investigative work. While they worked out a plan in the car, I ran inside the motel to get a room.

The bubbly clerk clicked her tongue at me. “Ooooh….we only have one room available, and it’s a king. I’m sorry.”

I sighed and contemplated what to do. I looked over my shoulder and out the window at the Impala, just as Dean reached over to swat Sam on the head, and snatch something from his hands. _Was that a pudding cup?_

Shaking my head, I blew out a breath and turned back to the clerk. “We’ll take it.”

I shuffled back to the car. Dean twisted in his seat and nodded at the keys. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah...just one small glitch.”

“What’s that?” Sam asked, also turning around.

“King suite - only room available.”

“ _Huh…_ ,” they chorused.

**xxxxx**

The room was decent. As we dropped our things in corners and on tables, I heard a stifled sneeze behind me.

I turned in time to see Dean scrub at his nose. “Bless you,” I offered.

Dean flashed an embarrassed smile and sniffed. “Thanks. Okay, Sammy, let’s get going.”

Sam peeked between the curtains and sighed in disgust. “Bleh….okay. This’ll suck.”

I sat on the bed and bit my lip, figuring this was a good time to ask again. ”You want me to come with and help?”

Both boys swiveled towards me. “No,” they said.

They always say that.

“Are you sure? I can be more help _with_ you than sitting _here_.” 

I always say that.

Sam sighed and glanced at Dean before answering. “Jess...it’s better that you stay here. You know it’s not safe, and - “

I cut him off, waving my hand at him dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just feel guilty sitting here in a warm, dry room while you two trollop around in the rain. I know research is important. I know you need me here in case anything happens. I know you don’t want me to get hurt. I just...I want to help more. That’s all.” I ended my speech in a small voice, hoping they’d understand my need to contribute, to find my role in this...life.

Sam gave Dean a helpless look, like he didn’t want to say anything to piss me off, so please, big brother, take care of this for me. I arched an eyebrow and waited. 

Dean cleared his throat. “Jess, until you get more training, you can’t be in the field with us. It’s not just because it isn’t safe for _you,_ but it wouldn’t be safe for _us_.” He gestured between Sam and himself.

Gah...that one always works. I nodded slowly, resignation probably radiating from every pore.

He glanced at Sam before walking towards me. He leaned close and murmured in my ear, “Besides...it’ll give you private time to surf porn while Sam’s out of the room.”

_That_ made me laugh, and he ducked with a smile as I tried to smack him. 

“Quit hitting on my girl. Let’s go and get this over with.” Sam gave me a fantastic kiss, and then they were gone.

**xxxxx**

My phone buzzed, interrupting a riveting documentary on Bigfoot. _Sam._ “Hey there, how was the interview?”

“Good...looks like a cut and dry case, for once. Simple salt and burn. Can you do us a favor and look up the location of Guthery Cemetery?”

“Sure - one sec…”

I pried open my laptop and while it was booting up, I heard Sam cough, then sigh through the phone. “You okay?”

“What? Yeah. Just tired. I dunno why...we ate breakfast then sat in a car all day.” He cleared his throat, and sighed again.

I clicked away at the keyboard. “Okay...one Guthery Cemetery...Route 48 just West of Union Road. Not that far from here.”

Sam mumbled back the location as he was probably checking a map. “Got it. Thank you. You’re the best.”

“No problem. Wait - are you going to dig _tonight_? In the _rain_?”

“We don’t have a choice. This thing’s restless, so the sooner we get rid of it, the better. It’s not the first time we’ve dug up a grave in the rain.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. It was one more reminder that this was Sam’s life...and he was _used to it_. I just had no idea. For two years...I had no idea.

And now, it was _my_ life, too.

“Well… _*sigh*_ okay, but...shit, Sam. Just call me when you’re on your way back, okay? Please?”

“I will, I promise. I gotta go. I love you!”

“Love you, too…”

I stared at the phone and shook my head. Somehow, I didn’t see this ending well.

**xxxxx**

Eventually, the rain stopped, but there was a chill in the air and lightning continued to flash every now and then. It’d been three hours since Sam called for directions, and I hadn’t heard from him since.

I tried not to worry. I mean, it was raining and they had to dig up a _grave_ , for crying out loud. Plus, fight off the spirit if it showed up, then refill the hole. It was conceivable that three hours just wasn’t enough time.

I still worried.

The rumble of the Impala’s engine pulled me from my thoughts. I raced to the door, yanking it open and almost tripping over myself in my haste. I got there in time to see Dean help Sam from the car. Sam held his head in one hand, the other grasping Dean’s jacket. 

“What the hell happened?” I worriedly asked, running to help. The wind had picked up, sending goose bumps down both my arms.

Dean grunted as Sam’s weight pressed against him. “Fucking spirit showed up, tossed the shovel at Sam’s head.”

Well, fuck.

“Ughhhh...’m okay...it just hurts a li...little- _HESCHCH! FuckingGodammitfuck!_ ” 

The sneeze rocked him forward, jarring his head. I’m pretty sure I made one of those sympathy noises moms are always making when their kids are hurt or sick. I grabbed his arm and helped Dean get him inside.

We steered Sam towards the bed, where he gingerly sat down, head still in his hands. A trickle of blood was slowly making its way down the side of his head. I rushed to wet a washcloth.

Dean sighed as he examined Sam’s head. “Doesn’t look that bad - don’t think you need stitches or anything.”

He stepped aside when I returned, letting me dab at it with the cloth. I took a closer look. “It isn’t bad - the Philly one was way worse than this.

Dean grunted in agreement.

Sam just sighed and rubbed his nose, shivering in his wet clothes.

Then he rubbed it a little harder. Dean’s eyes widened a little. “Shit… _shit_ , okay hold on…” Dean reached out to steady him, bracing his head and shoulders.

Sam shook his head, simultaneously wincing in pain and sneezing uncontrollably.

“ _Fuck_ , Sam…” Dean dragged a hand down his face.

“Alright, you two need to get out of those wet clothes, like, now.” I handed Sam some tissues I grabbed from the bathroom and he blew his nose miserably, shaking his head once more.

“Can’t… _*sniff*_...gotta go back...burning the bones didn’t work.”

“Jesus, Sam! You can’t go back there like this!” I gave Dean a pleading look, as Sam rested his head against me.

“Are you kidding me? _Of course_ he’s not going. Why do you think I brought him back here?” Dean looked a little outraged.

I knew he wouldn’t. I just wanted _Sam_ to hear it.

Sam coughed, lifting his head from me. “No, Dean, you can’t go back there alone.” Okay, now I just want Sam to _accept_ it.

“Sammy, you can’t hunt like this. I’ll be fine. It won’t take long to get the ring from the family. I’ll be back before you know it.” Dean gave him a smile and patted him on the back.

I held Sam close, feeling him shiver and rub his face against my shirt. I figured I’d try again. “I can go…”

“No!” They chorused, followed by Sam’s muffled sneezing...right into my shirt. I guess now _all three_ of us need to get out of our wet clothes.

I bent to kiss the top of his head. He sighed miserably into my shirt.

Dean nodded in approval. “That’s better, Sammy. I’ll...um...I’ll...I’ll be right back...” Dean quickly turned and headed out the door. I heard an odd noise from outside - a sort of strangled snort - and was about to make sure Dean was okay, when Sam pitched forward with another round of sneezing.

“ _HTSHHCH--ITSCHCH--ETSCHH! Oh-fuck…_ ”

His shivering was ridiculous; he needed to get warm and dry and in bed. “Okay, Sam, time for a hot shower and a change of clothes.”

I reached for his duffel back as Sam opened his mouth to protest. Luckily, I didn’t have to argue with him, because once his mouth opened, he began a string of coughing that seemed to never end.

At least he managed to look sheepish. 

Without a word, he took the bag, and staggered to the bathroom.

I pulled the med kit and rummaged through it for a thermometer and some bandages. We needed some cold medicine.

I looked up when the motel door opened and closed behind a now shivering Dean. He was carrying two plastic bags - one with boxes of tissues, and the other with assorted boxes of cold medicine. Christ, he thinks of everything.

“Here - use what you think he needs. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I took the bags, but grabbed his wrist before he could pull away. “Dean - at least change or something. You’re shivering!”

He shook his head, gently squeezing my hand before removing it from my grasp. “I’ve been here too long already. The spirit knows we’re trying to get rid of it - I’m afraid it’ll go for the family. I have to go - now.” He reached the door in a few steps, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll call when I can. Take care of him.”

I had a retort ready, but the door shut before I could get it out. Dammit.

I huffed. Like I needed to be told to take care of Sam.

**xxxxx**

Once Sam showered (and he took his sweet time in there), he sneezed his way back into the main room, and into bed. He stopped swearing after each one, so I assumed his head felt a little better. He crawled under the covers and watched me root through the bags of supplies from Dean.

I produced a large box of soft tissues, and peeled off the little perforated cardboard oval. Choosing a bottle of Dayquil, I walked over to Sam with my loot. Sitting next to him, he sniffled as I handed over the tissues. 

He sighed in relief, took a few and blew his nose. He seemed to melt into the mattress as he sighed yet again. I started to pour some Dayquil in a cup. “Take this...it’ll make you feel better.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at me. “What - ndo Dyquil?” He sniffed thickly and somehow half-smiled.

I raised an eyebrow. “You wanna pass out and not know when Dean gets back?” I figured Sam’d fall asleep regardless, but the extra shove from Nyquil probably wouldn’t be welcome.

Sam snorted and swallowed the orange liquid, wincing as the taste hit him. Sniffling, he handed the cup back and asked, “When’d you get all this stuff?”

“What are you talking about? _You_ guys picked it up on the way here.” I placed the cup on the table, and climbed into bed next to Sam, making sure our phones were turned on and nearby.

Sam plucked a few tissues from the box and shook his head, sneezing into them. He let the tissues linger over his face for a moment. “Ub...dno...we didn’t stop addywhere. _Heh-itschch! *sniff*_ Cabe straight here.”

Sam blew his nose, then settled back against the pillow, groaning a little. I hooked my arm around his shoulders, pulling him to me. He sighed, snuggling close.

Absently, I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his temple. I swore I was missing something, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. 

“Jess?”

“Hmmm?”

“Seriously - you did’dt - _ugh_ \- get this stuff?”

“No! I was here the whole time. ” Then it hit me. 

The weird way Dean acted at the diner. His lack of sleep. His stifled sneezing from earlier. The odd sound I heard when he stepped outside that I _totally forgot to investigate._

Dean was sick. 

He bought these supplies for himself, God-knows-when. It was _coincidence_ that Sam caught this cold. 

He’d been in the rain as much as Sam, tonight. He was shivering before he left...and now he was back out there hunting down this spirit. 

Alone. 

Sick.

_Fuck._

“Jess?” Sam nudged me with his shoulder. I looked down at him, almost drowning in those eyes. “You okay?”

Blinking a few times to shake me from the Eye Reverie, I flashed a bright smile. “I’m fine. Just...want you warm and comfortable.”

Sam burrowed closer. “I’b good, now. Just dod’t udderstand where the stuff cabe frob. _*sniff*_ Add I dod’t like Deand out there by hibself.” Sam paused to cough. “Fuck, this cabe on fast...”

_Not if you’ve been exposed to it for a couple days already…_

I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want Sam worrying about Dean more than he already was, more than _I_ already was, but I needed him to quit obsessing over where the damn Kleenex came from. 

“I know...just focus on getting some rest, okay? Let’s see what’s on TV.” I snagged the remote off the nightstand and started flipping through channels. I barely paid attention to the documentary on mating rituals in the Serengeti, instead constantly checking my phone for a call or text telling me Dean was okay, and listening for the Impala’s return.

Beside me, Sam sank further into misery. The groaning and sniffling grew more pronounced.

“Hey…” I murmured, scooting down until we lie next to each other on the pillow.

Sam ducked his head under the blanket and sneezed again. “ _*sniff*_ Yeah?” Bleary eyes turned towards me, frown lines between them.

I reached over and gently traced them. “He’ll be fine.” _He has to be fine._ “And he’ll be back before you know it.” _Then I’m gonna rip him a new one for hiding this from us._

Sam nodded and sighed. “I kndow. I just...I hate hib out there alond. He dever lets be be there for hib...dever lets be watch his back.”

I kissed those wrinkled worry lines until they smoothed. “We’ll fix that, okay?”

Sm nodded again, and shivered. I scooted even closer, twisting my legs with his. We lay together and watched TV, waiting for Dean.

**xxxxx**

We must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, the TV was showing some infomercial for the most amazing plastic storage containers ever, and a heavily snoring Sam was practically on top of me, drooling onto my shirt.

I carefully extracted myself, shivering as the cool room temperature hit my skin. One quick glance around the room told me Dean still hadn’t returned. I checked our phones - nothing.

And two hours had passed.

Panic rising in my chest, I went to the window and peeked outside.

_What the fuck?_

There sat the Impala, parked right in front of our room, with one bedraggled Dean sitting on the trunk. Frowning, I watched for a minute, trying to figure out not only what the hell he was doing, but how I should approach him.

Yes, I prepared a lecture, but the day Dean Winchester allows himself to actually sit through a lecture, is the day the John Winchester volunteers his location.

I leaned against the window and bit my lip.

Why doesn’t he understand that he needs us as much as we need him? What will convince him to care for himself, the way he cares for us?

How do we show how much he’s loved, without turning him away?

Dean shivered violently in the night air, and I realized, with a fresh burst of irritation, that he still hadn’t changed into dry clothes. His head reared back a little, then pitched forward into the crook of his arm. Again...and again...and again.

He’s out there, alone, because he doesn’t want to disturb us, in here.

Oh, _hell_ no.

I picked up a fresh box of tissues, ripped it open, and grabbed a blanket from the closet. Taking a deep breath, and shooting one last glance at Sam to make sure he still slept, I walked outside, making sure the door didn’t close all the way behind me.

Dean jumped at the sound of my approach, quickly wiping his nose on his sleeve and plastering the “I’m fine” look on his face. “Hey...I just got back. Needed a minute to wind down. Sam okay?”

Ah...deflection off himself and onto Sam. Nice. But I’m on to you now, Winchester.

His gaze flickered to the tissues, but said nothing more. I stopped next to him, placing the box on the trunk. “Sam’s fine,” I answered, shaking out the blanket and draping it over Dean’s shoulders.

He stared at me, suspicious. “What’re you doing?”

I shrugged, saying nothing, and just pulled a few tissues.

“Um...Jess? You okay?”

Our eyes met, then, and I nodded. Confusion filled him, as he furrowed his brow. 

I just waited, fiddling with the blanket until it completely burritoed his wet body.

It took only a couple seconds for a slight breeze to flitter across the parking lot. It wasn’t anything big, just a minor ripple of air movement.

It might as well have been a major gust of wind, given the way Dean shivered as it passed over him. 

I caught his sneeze in the wad of tissues I hastily pressed to his face. His eyes widened, only to flutter closed as a string of sneezing overtook him. 

His hands covered mine as he let loose. I rested my other hand on his back, gently rubbing back and forth. Eventually, the fit passed, and Dean just sagged. Taking the messy clump of tissues from me, Dean swallowed and tossed a guilty look my way.

“Bless you,” I murmured, sliding my hand to the back of Dean’s head, massaging gently. He moaned and sighed, closing his eyes and leaning towards me.

His head rested against mine, letting me feel the warmth from his fever.

Taking a chance, I pressed a kiss to his forehead and held him to me. “C’mon…” I coaxed. “Time for bed.”

I tugged at his jacket until he slid off the Impala and plodded into the room behind me. Once inside, I gestured at him to get changed, and he picked up his bag with a sniffle, shuffling into the bathroom.

Looking around, I quickly checked the salt lines and wards. Making sure the Do Not Disturb sign was clearly posted and the door was locked, I measured out some Nyquil for Dean. I felt better knowing I had something to do - something with purpose other than waiting around for a possible chore.

He exited the bathroom, somehow managing to walk with his eyes closed and his breath hitching. He dropped the bag and sneezed viciously into the crook of his arm. Dean leaned against the table, wearily dragging a hand down his face. 

Shaking my head at him, I handed over the Nyquil, which he downed without a fight. 

“Get in bed,” I ordered, and he nodded, sliding in as I flipped off the lights, letting the TV illuminate the path to my boys. Dean burrowed under the covers, pausing (naturally) to check on Sam before pulling the covers up to his chin. 

I crawled over him, into the middle, slipping under the blankets as Sam yawned and stretched. Dean scooted further away, until he was practically hanging off the edge. I reached over and gently tugged on his shirt until he turned around. I gestured with my hand for him to move closer.

He licked his lips, glanced at Sam, and shook his head, no. Frowning, I reached out and just pulled on his shoulder until he rolled towards me with a sigh. I hugged him to my side giving an extra squeeze when he tucked close for warmth.

Sam continued snoring, completely unaware of his brother’s safe return. He _was_ aware, somehow, of _my_ return, because he nestled his face in the back of my neck. I almost laughed when he sighed, looping his arm around my waist. 

I rubbed my thumb along Dean’s arm, willing him to sleep. It took another minute for him to truly relax, and let sleep take over. 

I lay there a long time, very aware of the overly warm bodies pressing against me from all sides, our legs a tangled mess. Gentle snoring, in stereo, filled the room, and occasionally, someone’s limb twitched in response to a dream.

I used to lament the loss of my life, as if Stanford was this shining moment, stolen during my prime. Dreams and plans from youth were stripped away forever, never to be realized. The idea of shitty motels, crappy diner food and never having a home...ever...was daunting, at best. 

Sam vigorously rubbed his nose against my back, just as Dean shuddered and muffled a sneeze into the blanket, prompting me to pull him even closer.

In the morning, I’ll write my mom a letter and explain, for the _last time,_ that _this_ is my life. Stanford was nothing more than a vehicle for meeting these two men. 

I see that now.

I’m finally on my true path, with my true partners, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

==end==

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt:
> 
> Jess has joined the boys on the road on the hunt for their father and the three of them are a thing. Each one of them feels a bit like the outsider (Sam because Dean/hot girl is the norm, Dean because Sam/Jess was a thing before he dropped in, and Jess because these boys have got a bond obviously). But when one of them gets sick (Sam or Dean--or both!) things get real quickly. And we learn who's really good at caregiving.
> 
> Bonus points for all three snuggling in a motel bed together at some point


End file.
